NORTH SHORE BOOK NOTES: 'Glass Houses'

What a pleasure it’s been to spend my leisure hours with Louise Penny’s newest mystery novel, "Glass Houses." Her talent for creating a warm and loving community of characters, a story thickly embedded with twists and surprises, smart insights into human nature and beautiful sentences nets her the audience she deserves. A friend and avid reader recently delivered the best kind of praise: "I read ‘Glass Houses’ as slowly as I could, not wanting to get to the end." I luxuriated, as well.

The book’s structure is part of the fun. When the book begins, the recurring character Armand Gamache, now Quebec’s Chief Superintendent, is on the witness stand at a murder trial. It’s a brutally hot summer day and he’s answering questions posed by Chief Crown Barry Zalmanowitz, ostensibly Gamache’s law-enforcement cohort. But the chief prosecutor is hostile and Gamache is anxious. Judge Corriveau suspects that something serious is amiss. Right from the start we know that Gamache and Zalmanowitz’s careers and the future safety of Quebec are at grave risk. Whatever they’ve cooked up has far-reaching implications if their strategy fails. What strategy that is, however, is part of the mystery.

The murder victim was a young woman, an architect, and one of a group of friends gathered at the small Quebec village of Three Pines toward the end of October. She was found in a church root cellar, clad in black and beaten to death. A similarly black-robed figure had been standing motionless in the village green for the last few days, its attention fixed on the local bistro. The villagers were unnerved and agitated by its presence. The figure disappeared when the woman was killed.

The mystery stalker was said to be a cobrador. We learn that the first cobradors hearkened back centuries and had their roots in Spain. They were retained to follow and, by virtue of their silent and persistent presence, shame their target. Those stalked were guilty of an immoral, most likely heinous act and the cobrador served as the embodiment of a conscience, usually prompting redemptive actions.

The story alternates between Gamache’s torturous examination at the trial and the few days in Three Pines leading up to and following the murder. Three Pines, off the beaten path, is close to the Vermont border and home to Gamache and his wife. Residing in Three Pines are a group of people that Gamache and his wife socialize with frequently. Like family, their doors and dinner tables are open to each other.

Although the scenes shift from the courthouse in Montreal to Three Pines, they are linked in that whatever Gamache is describing on the witness stand is taking place in the Three Pines scenes. It’s as if we’re watching what Gamache is describing.

In Penny’s narratives, every gesture, every facial expression is imbued with meaning. No detail is too small for elaboration. And every expression bears information. It’s up to us and Gamache to decipher meaning and relevance. This close attention to behavior yields more fodder for contemplation and results in a slow, relentless ratcheting up of the suspense — making Penny not just a master plotter but a masterful writer.

"Glass Houses" is also the story of a border town, powerful drug cartels in both Canada and the United States, and the scourge of opiates that fells the young in tragic numbers. To Gamache, new to the highest law enforcement position in Quebec and likely all of Canada, the corruption and prevalence of drugs render him powerless before he can even get started. Unless he can come up with something novel and ingenious, he will fail. When the novel begins, he is already receiving concerned scrutiny. The stakes could not be higher.

For Gamache, Three Pines is a place of love and serenity and great beauty. He goes home from his work in Montreal to gather warmth, companionship and to recharge. We go with him for all the same reasons.

Rae Padilla Francoeur is a freelance journalist and author. She can be reached at rae@raefrancoeur.com.

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